part 55 (1)
the clown does not believe; though
not necessarily not|\. it comes and goes along with the whole universe which
may or may not be real. now they are trying to tell us it's a [holo]gram. nice
try, "assholes". we've been there and done that.
the clown believes bits-and-pieces of things gathered into some sorta hodgepodge montage of abstract perceptions [sic] and meanings dreaming themselves. twist and shout around about... but it's nothing like that at aLl.
it's like believing in a god (x) without a god (x) to believe in. transcending all realities inside the blue bus. back in the shadows behind the spotlights pointed at those needing attention. the crowds cheer. hail victory. are we not saved?
there's either a large fly or a small bee buzzing around against the window.
this becomes old time after time. the clown doesn't know what else to do. submerge into the depths of the sea? the sea is humanity. eat it. bite into it and tear it apart. suck on it. peach.
now everything is easy as it should be. we have reached the common ground where we can all stand tall. no one is ashamed to be who they are. why should they be?
there are those who will cut us down and out but more of us appear every day in every way the wind blows. everyone knows except those who think they know better.
crumbling octopus dancing with fleas as we please to amuse ourselves. the circus is dead. get that into your head.
the end has come at last. for some it has come too fast. some have been waiting for too long singing that same old song.
fuck it.
and it's medication time!
the clown blows his nose in gleeful excitement. everybody dance. everybody run run run away // though there is nowhere left to run away to anymore like there used to be back when. we're too crowded in each other's face all over the place by the billions. we love to fuck.
but we have better things to do, like staring into the sun, and with that we've only just begun. come on, let's have some fun.
and do we need to think about anything else? think about radio call in talk show. think about rallies in the park. think about the fallen heroes. think about holy shit.
and it's still not enough. what will it take? what do you have in mind? love? hate? indifference?
people's misguided perceptions about us from the other side of a rainbow painted flying thing traveling coast to coast before everything is spoiled to make room for a future of broken dreams, broken hearts, broken heads, broken minds.
the clown believes bits-and-pieces of things gathered into some sorta hodgepodge montage of abstract perceptions [sic] and meanings dreaming themselves. twist and shout around about... but it's nothing like that at aLl.
it's like believing in a god (x) without a god (x) to believe in. transcending all realities inside the blue bus. back in the shadows behind the spotlights pointed at those needing attention. the crowds cheer. hail victory. are we not saved?
there's either a large fly or a small bee buzzing around against the window.
this becomes old time after time. the clown doesn't know what else to do. submerge into the depths of the sea? the sea is humanity. eat it. bite into it and tear it apart. suck on it. peach.
now everything is easy as it should be. we have reached the common ground where we can all stand tall. no one is ashamed to be who they are. why should they be?
there are those who will cut us down and out but more of us appear every day in every way the wind blows. everyone knows except those who think they know better.
crumbling octopus dancing with fleas as we please to amuse ourselves. the circus is dead. get that into your head.
the end has come at last. for some it has come too fast. some have been waiting for too long singing that same old song.
fuck it.
and it's medication time!
the clown blows his nose in gleeful excitement. everybody dance. everybody run run run away // though there is nowhere left to run away to anymore like there used to be back when. we're too crowded in each other's face all over the place by the billions. we love to fuck.
but we have better things to do, like staring into the sun, and with that we've only just begun. come on, let's have some fun.
and do we need to think about anything else? think about radio call in talk show. think about rallies in the park. think about the fallen heroes. think about holy shit.
and it's still not enough. what will it take? what do you have in mind? love? hate? indifference?
people's misguided perceptions about us from the other side of a rainbow painted flying thing traveling coast to coast before everything is spoiled to make room for a future of broken dreams, broken hearts, broken heads, broken minds.
people do not possess power but are
possessed by power - guru jeff.
they will do whatever power demands. power has its own motives and rationale and will---*. power makes them dance to its tune (enut). and all they can do is suck onto it hoping for nourishment, but all they receive is poison dementing their minds while they serve as slaves. :(
they will do whatever power demands. power has its own motives and rationale and will---*. power makes them dance to its tune (enut). and all they can do is suck onto it hoping for nourishment, but all they receive is poison dementing their minds while they serve as slaves. :(
the clown laughs to see them parade
around with that dazed look on their faces. they don't seem too happy to him
but pathetically lost from themselves.
whatever.
nevermind.
whatever.
nevermind.
as the clown hesitates typing not
p0em a moment or 6 he thinks about how everything isn't always as bad as it
might seem - it is better and it is worse. then the clown thinks about a
spaceship hovering nearby which is just his and everyone's imagination.
spaceships do not exist in our reality. so there.
but who's paying attention? not him that's for sure. he forgets what he is writing as soon as he types it into the computer.
what?
but who's paying attention? not him that's for sure. he forgets what he is writing as soon as he types it into the computer.
what?
creepy hot dog on blue moldy bun.
who can tell what's right or wrong anymore? is there a place for it in the
brave new world order? or is it forgotten history?
who cares?
probably not anyone we know about. have we been formally introduced? if not, fuck you.
how it must have been, and still is practiced today to a certain extended extent among those who don't know what it means going through the motions of polite society like they do.
that feeling of being raped. taste in back of mouth. then you remember what you chose to forget.
easy does it, baby.
it takes a zillion years to get out of it, if you want to. if you are able. if you and/or your family have enough $$$.
if these conditions are met then one might be guided to a teacher. this is where the $$$ comes in. teachers aren't fucking cheap.
and to have drive and ambition - and faith.
faith enough to convince yourself that you aren't being had.
in a sense you aren't being had. everything is stated upfront and one should know what to expect to a certain degree.
unless it all goes wrong into a shit show.
you can never know.
who cares?
probably not anyone we know about. have we been formally introduced? if not, fuck you.
how it must have been, and still is practiced today to a certain extended extent among those who don't know what it means going through the motions of polite society like they do.
that feeling of being raped. taste in back of mouth. then you remember what you chose to forget.
easy does it, baby.
it takes a zillion years to get out of it, if you want to. if you are able. if you and/or your family have enough $$$.
if these conditions are met then one might be guided to a teacher. this is where the $$$ comes in. teachers aren't fucking cheap.
and to have drive and ambition - and faith.
faith enough to convince yourself that you aren't being had.
in a sense you aren't being had. everything is stated upfront and one should know what to expect to a certain degree.
unless it all goes wrong into a shit show.
you can never know.
no reason that should happen but it
does often enough.
of course one should ask oneself whether it is a matter of being deceived by others or being deceived by yourself, eh?
is that your final answer?
could you state it as a question, please?
mr. and mrs. john q. smith?
correct.
what's the prize?
eternal damnation.
can i play again?
play as often as you would like.
hell yeah...
of course one should ask oneself whether it is a matter of being deceived by others or being deceived by yourself, eh?
is that your final answer?
could you state it as a question, please?
mr. and mrs. john q. smith?
correct.
what's the prize?
eternal damnation.
can i play again?
play as often as you would like.
hell yeah...
and the saga continues through all of
space and time without beginning nor end.
a saga of the highborn elite bored outta their lofty skulls for something to do.
why not create a world with creatures in it who we can play with for our amusement?
a splendid idea.
and we appear once in a while in this world to play act as we will as the whim of the momentary mood moves us.
so mote it be, motherfucker.
a saga of the highborn elite bored outta their lofty skulls for something to do.
why not create a world with creatures in it who we can play with for our amusement?
a splendid idea.
and we appear once in a while in this world to play act as we will as the whim of the momentary mood moves us.
so mote it be, motherfucker.
a random name from a computer in
the sky.
and that name is you.
you win/lose as it will be.
get comfortable.
they are coming to your door.
and maybe this is how it goes - or not.
any what way it might go from here.
moonwalking on the moon.
who hasn't been automatically replaced by now?
that quirky sense of nonsense percolating in your brain from up your spine while you relax by the pool.
not for everyone.
not for the clown.
see ya around, charlie.
and that name is you.
you win/lose as it will be.
get comfortable.
they are coming to your door.
and maybe this is how it goes - or not.
any what way it might go from here.
moonwalking on the moon.
who hasn't been automatically replaced by now?
that quirky sense of nonsense percolating in your brain from up your spine while you relax by the pool.
not for everyone.
not for the clown.
see ya around, charlie.
impersonalize everyone. feel no
pain. all till ya go insane. who's to blame? and what if it's you? now what?
get in your wheelchair and roll away from home base.
crisis phone numbers.
all the victims in the worlds>
each world is a different reality. and some people cannot be helped. they refuse. or are not able to navigate the kafkaesque bureaucracy of services that pays good $$$ for people who sit at desks filling out e-forms erasing history and its pesky reminders of our blunders. we make it up as we go along sometimes feeling like motherless children far from home.
get in your wheelchair and roll away from home base.
crisis phone numbers.
all the victims in the worlds>
each world is a different reality. and some people cannot be helped. they refuse. or are not able to navigate the kafkaesque bureaucracy of services that pays good $$$ for people who sit at desks filling out e-forms erasing history and its pesky reminders of our blunders. we make it up as we go along sometimes feeling like motherless children far from home.
confused confusing people with fear
induced behavior mechanisms put forth as reality and desire for whatever $$$
can buy following close behind.
the clown having gotten through most of that though not quite as the task is neverending sitting before the computer gazing out the window wondering about what's in his mind a moment or 3 before it wisps away again.
more coffee.
medications.
/\/\/\/\/
tilt.
the clown having gotten through most of that though not quite as the task is neverending sitting before the computer gazing out the window wondering about what's in his mind a moment or 3 before it wisps away again.
more coffee.
medications.
/\/\/\/\/
tilt.
remembering the games we play along
the way trying to be what we are expected to be - a CEO or a bum in the street.
both insane for different reasons in different manifestations going nowhere
someplace else all over the place.
the pathless paths are everywhere. follow them if you dare or if you please get up off your knees.
on beyond zebra was the clown's epiphany at an early tender age he knew too much telling him to mind his own business and know thyself.zzz||>
and knowing thyself entails understanding everything as much as one might comprehend at any given moment.
it comes and goes down the slippery slope.
the pathless paths are everywhere. follow them if you dare or if you please get up off your knees.
on beyond zebra was the clown's epiphany at an early tender age he knew too much telling him to mind his own business and know thyself.zzz||>
and knowing thyself entails understanding everything as much as one might comprehend at any given moment.
it comes and goes down the slippery slope.
but... what determines|_ consciousness?
:how do we know? do we know our own? how "does one know" thyself? or
is it irrelevant? it is difficult with so much fucking with you with
distractions ''' to the main point of self realization; which the clown has
attempted but falls asleep inside a slippery dream of living a mortal life
before too long that comes to an end to begin which how it maintains itself
whatever it might be if anything at all around this spiririririraling route
once more.
gazorbnik is the name of our game. by it alone we reach pinnacles of nonsense never before discovered perhaps but what does that_|_matter if or not if?
crazy goose.
how to communicate with grunt consciousness is a trick & 1/2 we contemplate in our ongoing theory of everything celebrating the jubilee at the burning theater fuck you run like hell itself is after ya by the dawn's early light reflecting in the gentle pools of last night's rain.
let's go insane. :\
gazorbnik is the name of our game. by it alone we reach pinnacles of nonsense never before discovered perhaps but what does that_|_matter if or not if?
crazy goose.
how to communicate with grunt consciousness is a trick & 1/2 we contemplate in our ongoing theory of everything celebrating the jubilee at the burning theater fuck you run like hell itself is after ya by the dawn's early light reflecting in the gentle pools of last night's rain.
let's go insane. :\
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